A Fine Line
by Emerald Falchion
Summary: !ON HOLD! In the summer before sixth year, Harry is abandoned in London, where he is met by the most unlikely of people. Everything he believes is challenged, and by the time school starts he may have some very different views... WARNING: SLASH Tom/Harry!
1. Vacation

**Author:** Emerald Falchion  
**Disclaimer:** I'm not JK Rowling in disguise. Therefore, this isn't mine. So don't blame me for any insanity, unless it's non-canon. That part's all my fault! ;)  
**Beta:** DarkNaruto002 (Thank you so much for all your help!)  
**Author's Note: **I've had a plot bunny following me around for days now, glaring its evil little red eyes at me until I couldn't stand it any longer, so here you are. The beginning is the little rough because when I first sat down I hit writer's block (that's got to be some kind of record- I hadn't even written anything down yet!), so I had to find a way to get my creative juices flowing…. In other words, the prologue's a little out of the ordinary. Don't worry, though, it gets better… I hope!

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**Prologue: The Boy Who Lived**

_Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of Number Four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense._

But wait just one minute… haven't we all heard this before? Forgive me when I say I'd rather not painstakingly recite the first sixteen years of a certain hero's life, especially since JK Rowling has already done so marvelously. However, from this point on, I'm afraid she swayed from the truth of the matter to cater to the masses.

You see, while she was very accurate until then, including even the grievous details, it seems she suddenly changed her policy after she began writing _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. Many of the events she named did not occur, and many she omitted were in fact crucial turning points in the war effort. You may even go so far as to say that, from that point on, she was spinning a tale purely of fiction for the enjoyment of her readers. And that is why I am here: to recount the tale of what _truly_ occurred.

**Chapter 1: Vacation**

Despite the rather uncomfortable conditions of the moment, sitting awkwardly in the backseat of the Dursley's car and squashed between Dudley's monstrous bulk and the unforgiving car door, Harry Potter was actually looking forward to the upcoming weekend. It seemed that the Dursleys had finally decided to take their long desired vacation and couldn't find anywhere to leave Harry except with some cousin's friend's family (or some such nonsense), who would take him in for the weekend while they were off enjoying their stay in paradise. Harry intended to make the most of this wonderful opportunity, however. If these people were even the slightest bit less repulsive than his current "family", he would be ridiculously pleased. So though the car stank, he was hungry, and he had to use the loo, he looked ahead with timid hopefulness.

"Out, boy," his uncle suddenly declared as he pulled to the side of the road. Harry look around, feeling confused as he recognized that this wasn't a residential neighborhood. "We don't have time to drive you all the way there if we want to make it to the hotel check-in on time. Here's the address; it's not far," he said gruffly, thrusting a small piece of crumpled paper at Harry and shooing him out before slamming the door behind him and quickly driving off. Harry frowned slightly but shook off his growing sense of unease and set off to find his temporary home.

Hours later, the sky began to darken to a deeper blue and Harry still hadn't found the house he was looking for. Even though his gut told him it would be smarter to avoid attracting attention (there was a war going on, after all), which was why he hadn't stopped to ask directions yet, he finally decided to risk it rather than wander about the streets. The man he cornered and showed the paper to burst out laughing at once. "Your friends pranked you, kid. There ain't no addresses like that around here. Look at how it's written. That's an American address if I ever saw one."

Dazed, Harry thanked the man and walked out. His mind seemed to be working overtime as he had a series of revelations at once. One, there was no vacation. The Dursleys had acted very odd about the whole thing: packing almost nothing, saying they were only going to be gone for the weekend…. It all added up. If only Harry had seen it before. Two, they were definitely not coming back for him. If they had gone through the trouble to concoct this elaborate scheme and finally be rid of him, they weren't going to want him back any time soon. Which brought him to: three, he had no idea where to go or what to do now, holding his run-down suitcase and abandoned in Muggle London on a Friday night. To top it all off, his scar had begun to prickle insistently, which he rubbed absently as he sat on the curb with a thump to take stock of the situation.

He had in his tiny suitcase only his meager collection of cast-off clothing and a small bag of toiletries. However, he had also packed his rucksack with everything from the Wizarding World that he refused to part with, even for just a weekend, wrapping it in his Invisibility Cloak so the Dursleys wouldn't take it away. For once thankful for his paranoia, he listed off what it contained in his head: the Marauders Map, his wand, a wizarding photo album of his parents and friends, and a small pouch of Galleons along with a little Muggle money in case of emergency. He shivered in the chilly air and pulled on a tattered sweatshirt he had managed to filch from Dudley's old room, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell.

He supposed the first thing to do would be to find a place to stay, most likely the Leaky Cauldron. As he pulled his wand out to flag his only means of transportation, the Knight Bus, he paused. Did he really want Stan and Ernie knowing he wasn't at the Dursleys? It wasn't that he didn't trust them; simply that they would see no harm in telling anyone and everyone who came aboard that Harry Potter had hitched a ride on the Bus not too long ago. If they attracted the wrong sort of attention…. perhaps it would be better not to let anyone know of his presence. He put his wand away with a sigh, no longer sure what to next.

Well, the first thing to do would be to keep from being recognized… other than his scar, his glasses were his most recognizable feature. He hated to take them off, as he was partially blind without them, but he could at least still see to get around even if he couldn't recognize faces; besides, it was dark anyway. Before he did that, however, he needed a hat to hide his unwieldy black hair and obvious scar.

Entering a small 24-hour convenience store, he looked around and finally spotted a nearly empty box in the corner with leftover winter beanies. There were only two kinds left: pink with orange polka dots or dark green with silver lining around the bottom. As much as Harry was loathe to wear a Slytherin-themed beanie, he much preferred it to the other horror. Luckily for him, he had enough to pay for the beanie as well as a banana and a bag of chips with his scanty supply of Muggle money. Having done so, he shoved the distasteful hat on his head, grimacing slightly, while feeling his forehead to be sure it covered his scar; afterwards, he removed his glasses.

Not sure whether it would be smarter to stay in one place or keep moving, he reluctantly decided he should try to get his bearings and see if he could find a way to get to the Leaky Cauldron without using magic. Knowing which way was North, courtesy of some Wilderness Survival unit from back in grade school, he decided going somewhere would at least _feel_ more productive than remaining stationary. With his suitcase in his hand (and his wand in his back pocket), he headed up the street into the unknown.

Now he only had the most difficult task remaining: survive on his own until he could board the Hogwarts Express and make it to Hogwarts.

**Author's Note:** I had the idea to include a little taste of what's in the next chapter (just a sentence, mind you) as a sort of teaser trailer, so I think I'll start doing that. Muahahaha!  
**Teaser:** _I've finally snapped: Voldemort is concerned for my well-being._


	2. Old Friends

Sorry guys, this took me a looong time to get around to; I've been really busy lately. But hopefully I'll be able to get the third chapter up relatively soon since I have a three-day vacation (Wahoo!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW! :)

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**Chapter 2: Old Friends**

The empty street before him seemed to grow forbidding as a murky twilight settled, cloaking the city in a heavy mist and uneasy silence. Darkened office buildings loomed over him as his hesitant steps echoed loudly in the oppressive hush. He suppressed a shiver of fear as he passed under a flickering street lamp, his breath coming quicker and sounding like a harsh defiance of the heavy silence around him.

Looking back, he always wondered how and why he sensed another presence, for it made no noise, but in an instant his head snapped up to peer through the mist, senses straining for any sign of who, or what, was in the fog. For a long while, he remained frozen, skin prickling, every instinct telling him he was in danger. When he finally began to breathe easier, he chided himself for his fear of, seemingly, simply the shadows.

Strengthening his resolve and moving forward once again, he was caught off guard by a quiet, "Expelliarmus!"

He snatched desperately for his wand, but it flew from his hand and was caught instead by an older teen bearing a strong resemblance to the Tom Riddle from his diary. Mind blank, Harry simply stood watching the human form of his greatest enemy point his own wand at him. Swallowing, he stood tall and lifted his chin, green eyes determinedly meeting red.

"I'm not afraid," he said boldly, relieved to find that his voice was not shaking. "I've faced you before and survived…. I've even killed you. In fact, I've killed you three times!"

At that, the other man grinned, surprising Harry. "And you haven't taken a hint from that? Does it not tell you anything, that you managed to kill me three times, but I'm still here talking?" His casual manner seemed as if he was speaking to an old friend and not a sworn enemy.

"You know, speaking of that, I've been thinking. I came here to kill you, of course—" At this Harry stiffened, his eyes hardening. "—But don't worry, I've decided not to." He smiled again and gestured companionably with his free hand for Harry to join him as he turned to a side alley to their right.

Still bemused with shock and wondering if this was some odd nightmare, Harry slowly followed. At this, the other seemed quite pleased and said, "Come along, now, let's get you to the Leaky Cauldron."

After hearing this, Harry's eyes again widened in surprise, and he asked cautiously, "Uh… why?" Tom (Harry had trouble calling this seemingly civil person Voldemort) raised his eyebrows and snorted delicately. "You don't honestly think you can just wander around London on your own, do you?"

"Well no, of course not; the Leaky Cauldron's actually where I was trying to go before you showed up, but why do you want me there?"

"To keep you out of trouble, of course! It's not safe alone, you know."

This was just too much for Harry, who had to sit down abruptly on the cold asphalt before his knees gave out. He moaned, putting his head in his hands. "I've finally snapped: Voldemort is concerned for my well-being."

Tom gracefully folded is legs and sat down next to Harry, his voice strangely sympathetic. "It does seem rather odd, doesn't it? But it's true…. Listen, if it'll help, I can tell you why I've decided not to kill you."

Receiving a grunt from Harry and taking it as an affirmative sign, he smiled. "Well, I just… like you, I guess. It's rather disturbing, but I like the fact that you're willing to stand up to me, to verbally defy me. Sure, others on your side have met me and my… troops… in battle before, but that's a far cry from actually having a conversation with me, which, might I add, we have had multiple times. By the way, have you ever found it odd that we always talk civilly while dueling? Most wizards are concentrating too hard, hating me too much, or are simply too terrified to talk civilly like you do."

"I've never thought about our 'discussions' before now, but then again unlike you, I have a life— y'know, with people who actually care about me?" Harry lifted his face from his hands, smirking viciously while Tom scowled.

"Oh yes, I'm sure your family left you on the street because they care," he retorted bitingly.

It was Harry's turn to scowl. "They're not my family; and if it wasn't for you, I'd actually have one!" he snarled, bringing his knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around his shins defensively.

Tom winced regretfully, as if he had hoped this wouldn't come up. "Yes, well, about that. I…. I did what I had to do, Harry. I don't expect you to believe me, but I had to kill you _for the cause_, and," he hesitated, continuing in a softer voice, "I offered to spare them… your parents. I tried, I really did. But I had to kill you to keep you from fulfilling the prophecy and destroying everything I had worked for simply by existing. I couldn't let all the sacrifices… so many… go to waste over one little baby boy."

He grew bitter, continuing, "And, yet, you still managed to thwart my plans, again and again. A child! Everything has gone to hell since then…." His face twisted into a snarl. "Since your dear mummy saved you with her _love_!" Suddenly he hunched in pain, rubbing his face wearily. "For what it's worth, I'm… sorry. I'm so sorry."

For a very long time, the two just sat together in the darkness, lost in their own thoughts. Harry was a complete wreck, lost in a sea of uncertainty. His entire wizarding life he had been anchored by the man now sitting next to him. He was a constant, no matter what else happened. Harry had always had the knowledge that Voldemort was out there, the ultimate enemy, no matter how deeply buried in his subconscious, and learning that even this person wasn't who he had thought was deeply unsettling.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the alley, relaxing into a cross-legged pose. As his mind whirled through all the revelations of the night, he finally let his guard down, the remainder of his adrenaline rush leaving him feeling empty and exhausted, easily slipping away into the warm darkness of sleep….

**Teaser:** _My dear Nagini, as I'm sure you're well aware, I sacrificed my sanity for my cause long ago._


	3. Sanity

Wow, it's been FOREVER since I uploaded Chapter 2... sorry. Ugh, this chapter was a huge pain to write. It fought me every step of the way, but it's here at last, and the next few chapters shouldn't be nearly so bad. Oh, and the flashbacks at the end don't have anything to do specifically with the chapters they're in; but I'm going to start including them in the chapters from Voldemort's point of view so you can get more insight into his character.

**Key:** "English" "_Parseltongu_e"

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**Chapter 3: Sanity**

"_Master, what troubles you so?_" The curious hiss broke the silence which had fallen heavily upon the lavish bedchamber. Its main occupant, sitting motionlessly in a tall red armchair, started and scowled at the huge snake curled in front of the fire.

"_It's that Potter boy!_" He hissed angrily, gripping the armrests tightly. The snake rustled its scales almost exasperatedly as it shifted its position. "_Again? When are you going to give up on him and focus on more important affairs?_"

"_No, no, that's not what I meant. __The situation has changed, drastically."_ At this, the snake raised its head in surprise, asking curiously, "_Oh? Is this good news at last?_"

"_I'm not __sure…. You see__, late yesterday evening I felt a great turbulence in our bond. I dug a little deeper to determine its source. Fortunately, he didn't notice my presence in his mind, and I was able to discover that he had been left to fend for himself on the streets of London! I'm sure you can imagine my delight at his predicament. In order to arrive myself before he could call on any of his little friends, I quickly Apparated to his location and confronted him alone instead of consulting any of my followers. I disarmed him and prepared to kill him, but something told me to wait…. Some part of me stayed my hand. And then somehow we just… talked. It felt so strange, to talk to someone as an equal and not a slave or lesser being, I mean. It felt somewhat like our own talks, but of course it was different. I can't truly explain it, but I was a changed man. We talked about his parents for a bit; though I of course managed to avoid telling him anything useful. I doubt I'll have such luck after he's awake and alert, however. It's just that—_"

"_Hold a moment, please! He's still alive?_" Nagini asked incredulously, relaxing into a less formal dialect as she settled in for one their frequent discussions. "_You had him completely at your mercy and he's still alive? Why does this sound familiar?_"

Scowling, her master's narrowed eyes rebuked her as he said coldly, "_Do not test me, Nagini. You remain my companion only as long as you are useful to me. You would do well to remember that._"

"_Oh, please. I'm here for more than that and you know it. You need someone to talk to! You obviously can't talk to your Death Eaters openly, and you sure don't have anyone else. You need my _emotional _support._" This was said with far too much humor than a snake should possess, and Tom glared at her suspiciously before answering. "_Never mind that; we were talking about Potter!_"

"_Fine. Go ahead, change the subject…. But yes, we were. You were saying?_"

"_I was saying that he has managed to single-handedly turn my life upside-down once again. I can't believe I didn't kill him. I should just go kill him now, to be on the safe side. And, yet… there's something about him._" He shook his head. "_I'm not sure of anything anymore."_

"_Well then it's a good thing I'm around. You need to rest, master. Think about what happened and what you're going to do about it, but don't do anything rash. That's always been your downfall._"

"_Too late._" He groaned. "_I gave him a message to read once he wakes tomorrow that I'll meet him in the ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley." _This statement was met with a profound silence as Nagini simply stared. "_What? Don't give me that look, Nagini._"

"_You, the Dark Lord Voldemort, are going to meet Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, in an ice cream parlor, presumably to eat ice cream. Are you quite certain you haven't lost your sanity?_"

He smiled, almost sadistically. "_My dear Nagini, as I'm sure you're well aware, I sacrificed my sanity for my cause long ago._"

She let out a very un-snakelike snort. "_Well do I know it. But I believe this could become a good thing for you. You need to get out a little more. Socialize. Wasn't that the purpose of regaining your old body in the first place?_"

"_Nooo_…." He said exasperatedly. "_That was so I could actually get out and find my old contacts again, in case I ever need them-_ politically_, I might add."_

"_Exactly. Socializing!"_

He gave up, rolling his eyes. "_Oh, whatever. Now, let's return to our conversation about Potter. You don't think I could actually_ 'socialize'_ with my greatest enemy, do you? I mean, for starters, what on earth would we talk about? And that's not even considering the fact that he probably won't even want to talk to me. Hello, he's Harry Potter! We're enemies by prophecy, which of course, tells me to kill him. But now I'm going to _'socialize'_ with him."_

"_You're rambling, Tom. Although I suppose it's understandable; it's because you're nervous, and because you actually care about what Harry thinks of you. For the first time in a long time, you care about someone other than yourself. And that scares you._ "

"_What is this, counseling? I'm not scared! I'm just…._"

"_Scared. Come on, admit it._" If snakes could smile, she would surely be grinning at him.

"_Oh, alright._" He snapped. "_I'm scared. But I have good reason to be! I don't think I've actually sat down and had a normal chat with anyone other than you for a good 20 years! I won't know what to say._"

"_And __you think Harry will? He'll be just as scared and awkward as you will. Just relax and see what happens. Be on your guard, but don't be overly hostile, and you'll be fine. You're actually a good person under the mask, __Tom__. Once he gets to know you, he'll like you._" She consoled him.

"_Ugh! Again with the counseling! I _am _a Dark Lord, you know!_" He complained, pouting.

"_No, you're not. You're Voldemort. The title "Dark Lord" is just that, a title, which the world pinned on you because they're scared of you and of the change you want to bring to their world._"

"_I know, I know. I can't forget why I started all this… why I became who I am. But it's hard, Nagini._" He sighed, suddenly looking his age. "_Alright, I'll wait and see how this goes. But if Potter makes just one wrong move, it's over."_

**FLASHBACK BEGINS**

"Not so quick to laugh now, are you, Riddle?" Jesse smirked at me, tied up in the cupboard under the orphanage's stairs. All I could do was glare back at him, struggling against my bonds uselessly. "Still think my name's girly?" When I ignored him, refusing to give in, he kicked me cruelly. "Do you?" Kick. "Do you?" Kick. Kick.

My eyes were stinging with unshed tears of anger and pain. I wished with all my might that the tape over my mouth would just disappear so I could deliver a stinging retort, but there was nothing I could do. "Aw, is the poor Tommy baby crying? Who's the girl now?" With that, he slammed the door, throwing me into darkness. I heard the click of a lock and fast retreating footsteps. Alone in the dark, I succumbed to the tears, crying in the cramped little space until the caretaker found me.

**O o O o O**

"It was Riddle, m'am! He purposefully poured the dishwater all over my bunk!" Jesse pointed to me angrily, after calling me over and setting me up for the deed.

"No it wasn't! I didn't—" The caretaker frowned at me disapprovingly and interrupted my protest. "Mr. Riddle! I expect better from you, and you know that. Why don't you sleep in his bed tonight and see how it feels. And don't let anything like this happen again, you understand?"

"Yes, m'am," I agreed miserably, looking at the soaked and freezing bed I would have to endure for the night. As soon as she turned to go, Jesse smirked at me and mouthed, "Have a nice night."

**FLASHBACK ENDS**

**Teaser:** _Wherever did you get the idea that I hated you?_


	4. Ice Cream

Unfortunately, DarkNaruto002, my lovely beta, is tied up with other obligations and will be for several weeks. I'm going to go ahead and upload this chapter anyway, and once she betas it I'll upload the improved version. So just to warn you, this might not be on par with my other chapters- I suck at editing my own work! :)

**Key:** "English" "_Parseltongue_"

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**Chapter 4: Ice Cream**

Blearily opening tired eyes, Harry yawned away a strange dream... and froze. Suddenly wide awake, he examined his surroundings, namely a small well-used room in the Leaky Cauldron. The only conclusion he could gather from this was that his so-called dream had actually happened. But that was impossible; it had to be a dream! Besides, even if it was real, the last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the alley (he had fallen _asleep_ sitting next to _Voldemort_?), and had no idea how he had gotten from there to here.

A soft hoot made him jump, and he lifted surprised eyes to see Hedwig in her cage on the room's narrow desk... But how had she gotten there? The Dursleys had forced him to leave her behind when they had gone on 'vacation', and he realized ashamedly that he hadn't thought of her at all once he had realized his situation. His guilt was quickly replaced with relief now that she was safe, though, and he saw his Firebolt was leaning against the wall beside his desk. He had even less of an idea how those important possessions had gotten there than how he had, and decided the best way to find out would be to ask Tom, the bartender.

After releasing Hedwig to hunt and quickly changing into clothes that were at least marginally presentable, he traipsed down the stairs to have breakfast in the main room. When he ordered his meal Tom nodded dutifully and turned to retrieve it, but stopped suddenly. "Oh, I nearly forgot. There's a note for you here, Mr. Potter. The man who dropped you off here last night said to deliver it to you."

Well, that explained how he had gotten here, but not why. His heart beating a little faster, he accepted the envelope with a nod and looked down to see familiar flowing script. The sight of it brought him back to second year: Riddle's diary, the chamber... He shook himself out of his memories and carefully opened the envelope, having no idea what to expect.

_Harry,_

_I know that our meeting was rather a shock to you, and I must admit I was unprepared for it as well. Perhaps we should meet to discuss the connotations of our little chat. I am sure you have questions for me regarding my behavior, and I am rather curious about you myself. If you wish to meet, come to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor today at 2:00. __I swear on my magic that I shall not injure/kill you on this day unless in self-defense, and that I shall not order/coerce another to do such a thing on my behalf._

_Tom Marvalo Riddle_

Harry stared at the letter in his hands unseeingly for quite some time after he had finished the short note. His thoughts ran in circles around his head, leaving him right back where he started. The last sentence was a magically binding contract, made more potent by the signature at the bottom of the page. Thinking for a long while of tricks and ill intent despite all appearances, he ate his breakfast mechanically, without thinking about what he was putting in his mouth. Once he finished, he glanced at the time and was surprised to see that it was already 11:00.

Sighing, he returned to his room and took a long hot shower, deciding not to think about whether or not to appear at the parlor yet. He managed to shower, dress, polish his Firebolt until it shone, tidy up his new room, and start to clean Hedwig's cage before he finally faced the fact that he was stalling. He took the simple parchment from his pocket and stared at it once again, his mind in chaos. As difficult as it was to get his mind around a Dark Lord that (admittedly temporarily) did not wish him harm, his brain simply refused to function when he tried to think of Voldemort eating ice cream in Diagon Alley. It just couldn't happen.

Letting out a groan of frustration, he stood up and made a decision which he sincerely hoped he would not regret... he would be there, in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, at 2:00. Now that he had decided, his rush of emotions settled a little, and he wasted no time in heading out to the street for a trip to Gringotts before he went to the parlor.

**O o O o O**

Glancing at his watch, Harry's purposeful steps began to slow as he neared the parlor, despite the fact that he was running a minute late. He dragged his feet on the ground and tried to walk as slowly as possible as the ice cream parlor loomed larger before him, somehow seeming so much more ominous than the last time he had set foot in it. Of course, last time, he had simply been eating ice cream and watching the world go by... now he was here to meet Tom Riddle- _Voldemort_. He had to be mental.

His dawdling steps suddenly ground to a shocked halt when he saw the powerful wizard (in his new human form) relaxing comfortably at one of the parlor's outside tables holding a milkshake in one hand, but was quickly jolted back into movement when said Dark Lord saw him and caustically raised an eyebrow. Biting his lip nervously, he slid into the chair opposite Tom's. "So…." He said self-consciously, fidgeting on the edge of his seat.

"Relax, Harry. I can't possibly hurt you, not with such a powerful binding spell in action. The repercussions to my magical core would be staggering, even to one so powerful as I. But let's get down to business, hmm?"

"Er… okay." Harry replied uncertainly, his hand clenched involuntarily around the wand in his pocket.

"Good. I suppose we can simply begin trading questions, although I reserve the right to refuse answering any if they have a major affect on the war effort."

Harry couldn't help biting out a retort. "You say 'war effort' as though it's not a campaign of evil designed to put you in charge of the world." He shook his head disgustedly and muttered, "Ugh, I don't know how you can stand it."

Tom sighed, saying wearily, "I was hoping you could restrain yourself from starting an argument that neither of us is going to win, but I suppose it was inevitable."

Harry's indignation sparked all his pent-up energy into a sudden explosion. "Don't you dare get all high and mighty on me! I don't even know why I came. What was I expecting, a full-on surrender?" He shook his head again and stood to go. "To be polite I'd say I was sorry I wasted your time, but I'm not. I hate you, you hate me, and we're going to keep fighting each other until someone wins this bloody war." He spun around and kicked his chair viciously before stalking away.

"Harry, get back here!" Tom hissed in annoyance before hurriedly following Harry, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. "_I don't hate you._"

Harry's foul mood vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by blank shock. "_What_?" Like many other ancient languages, Parseltongue was mysterious and little could be determined about it, but one thing Harry had learned at an early age was that you could not lie in Parseltongue. The words stuck in your throat, literally cutting off your air supply until you not only stopped lying, but quickly explained the truth of whatever you just tried to lie about.

Tom smiled faintly and asked, "_Wherever did you get the idea that I hated you? I most certainly don't hate you, although I admit I hold a bit of a grudge against you for the numerous occasions you have foiled my well thought out plans._"

"_You… don't hate me_?" The stunned expression once again appeared on Harry's face as he stared in astonishment at his enemy.

"_Not in the slightest._"

Harry began unconsciously biting his lip as his mind whirled, and he became lost deep in thought, staring unseeing at the milkshake still held in Tom's hand. This couldn't possibly change anything, could it? Tom had tried to _kill _him again and again, and since it wasn't because of hatred, only two other options remained. First, Tom could be completely insane, which wasn't out of the picture. Somehow, though, Harry had a feeling that that simply wasn't the case. The only other thing he could think of was that Tom was so devoid of feeling that he was incapable of not only love, but of all strong emotions. This conclusion fit well, and Harry nodded once with satisfaction, confident in knowing that this shock wasn't as major as it first seemed.

With a cold sneer, the man standing before him hissed mockingly, "_Ah, yes. I assumed as much. The great Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, has concocted a reason why I am still safe to hate even if I don't return the gesture. Perhaps you could illuminate me, O Mighty One?_"

"Well…" What did he have to lose? Tom couldn't really use the information against him, could he? With a shrug, he coolly returned Tom's gaze and replied calmly, "You're simply not strong enough to feel deep emotion… you might feel jealousy, perhaps… anger, bloodlust. But not love or hatred- you're too shallow. You don't have the depth to even comprehend such deep feelings."

Tom stood with his mouth open as if trying to find some answer but unable to form the words. Then his lip curled into a snarl and he narrowed his eyes in concentration, aiming a mental battering ram at the weak defenses around Harry's mind. Because of their two-way bond, he could not only read Harry's thoughts and feelings, but also channel his own. With a sudden cry of shock and pain Harry clutched his head and staggered backwards, colliding with a chair behind him. It was sent banging onto its side on the ground while he collapsed onto the unyielding cement himself, blackness overtaking him.

**O o O o O**

"Alright there, Harry?" The unsympathetic voice was a change from the usual routine as Harry slowly regained consciousness, unsettled at the lack of friends around his bedside before his mind caught up with him again. His eyes opened wide and he frantically struggled to sit up, causing a sharp stab of pain in his scar. He winced, then was shocked yet again when a hand pushed him roughly back into the bed, and he whipped his head around- letting out an unintended exclamatory from between clenched teeth- to see Tom sitting idly in the chair next to his bed in the Leaky Cauldron. He moaned and dropped his head onto the pillows, closing his eyes against the spectacle.

"No, no, no, no… Lord Voldemort is not sitting beside me… Lord Voldemort is not sitting beside me… Lord-"

The man beside him sighed loudly and interrupted impatiently, "I am indeed beside you. I merely wish to conclude yesterday's proceedings. I rather despise loose ends."

At that Harry sat bolt upright, ignoring the searing pain lance through his skull. "Yesterday?" He fumbled for his bedside table, hoping to find his wand. "_Yesterday?_" His face began to pale even further than it already was when he did not find what he was looking for and turned to find his nemesis holding it. Voldemort had his wand- again. He was hurt and defenseless, and his greatest enemy sat beside him with no reason to restrain from killing him. 'I shall not injure/kill you _on this day_…' The fateful words left him nearly trembling in his weakened state.

Meanwhile, the man holding his wand watched him in confusion before the light of comprehension lit his face. "Oh! The contract!" He smiled easily, somehow doing little to soothe Harry's frayed nerves. "Don't worry, I won't kill you. Haven't I already proven that? I just want to talk."

Harry's suspicious gaze never left his wand. "About what?" He asked cautiously, trying to think coherently through his pounding headache.

"Well, for starters, I'm sorry about that little accident! I really didn't intend to knock you unconscious; I simply tried to transfer some of my emotions to you- to prove they are as real and deep as any of your own. I'm afraid I got a little carried away and sent them to you more violently than I should have... But can you really blame me? I was a bit irate from your accusations."

Without hesitating, Harry replied, "Say that in Parseltongue."

"Uh- what?" Tom asked hesitantly.

"Say that in Parseltongue. To prove you're not lying."

"Ah, how very Slytherin of you… very well. _I apologize for my mistreatment of you. I only planned to show you a few of my emotions and prove a point, not to cause you so much pain and render you unconscious. I was merely angry and lashed out harder than I intended._"

Harry blinked twice in surprise, but resigned himself to the fact that he would never be able to predict Tom's actions. "Well… good. Thank you, I think."

Tom inclined his head before continuing. "And what did you see?"

"Huh?" was Harry's illuminating reply.

"The feelings I sent you!" Tom snapped. "Were they _real_ enough for you? _Deep_ enough?"

"I- oh." Harry closed his eyes and reached into his mind, carefully avoiding the pain still throbbing within him. _Rage. Utter and complete, red-hot rage, boiling inside… and love. A father's love for his daughter._ "What?" Harry snapped out of his trance, mouth hanging open. "You have a _daughter_? The poor child! What have you done to her?"

Nonplussed, Tom blinked once before shuddering at the dreadful thought. "Good heavens, no! For that, I'd have to copulate with a woman!" (1)

Harry paused for a second, unsure how to react to the admittedly odd statement, but shook his head and put it out of his mind, plunging back into the memory to find the truth. "Nagini. You love her like she is your own daughter." He said, before meeting Tom's eyes once more. "Then… how could you do the things you do? Cause so much grief and pain for so many people?" His voice became accusing, rising in volume until he was shouting at Tom. "How can you rip someone's daughter from them if you understand their pain, their suffering? How can you kill if you know the anguish of loss?"

Tom lowered his head silently. He seemed to withdraw deep within himself and offered no reply. After a moment he said softly, "I don't know." His eyes remained on the floor, and he continued in a small, broken voice, "_For the cause_. That was my mantra when I first began my 'crusade', and I repeated those words over and over to myself as if to hold the pain and guilt at bay. I used them as a shield against my own conscience for so long that the words themselves became battered and broken beyond recognition. But little by little, my conscience gave up. It stopped torturing me for every hurt I caused, weary of fruitlessly fighting against my defenses. And I grew a cold layer of frost where there once was feeling, warmth, life. And I lost myself in the battle, the struggle, pain, and blood.

"But now… I think the ice is beginning to crack. I think… you are making me whole again. And I don't know what to do about it."

Tom closed pain-filled eyes, taking a few calming breaths before raising a composed face to Harry's once more. "Why don't we try again, from the beginning?" Harry cocked his head in question, unsure of Tom's intentions once more and finding it hard to take all this in.

Tom extended his hand, his eyes steadily meeting Harry's. "Hello, I'm Tom Riddle. What's your name?"

Swallowing nervously, Harry smiled a bit and grasped Tom's hand firmly.

"I'm Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, Tom."

**Teaser:** _Tom, why are you holding a... kitten_?

(1): This hilarious little line of dialoge courtesy of fyren galan. :D Thanks so much!


	5. A Kitten

DarkNaruto002, the amazing beta for this story, is still otherwise involved, so I'm flying solo again. But yeah, please tell me of any mistakes I made, and enjoy!

**Edit: **Yay, I have my beta back! ^^ So this chapter is now edited. Thanks!

**Key:** "English" "_Parseltongue_"

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Kitten**

"I'm Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."

Tom smiled warmly, an expression that looked oddly natural on his pale face, transforming it into one of genuine compassion. "So Mr. Potter, what do you plan on doing with your life after you graduate from Hogwarts?" He asked politely.

"Er…. I haven't really given it much thought. I spend most of my time training and preparing for-" Harry didn't finish, catching himself and managing a hasty retreat from the dangerous subject. "I was thinking of becoming an Auror," he stated blandly, hoping to diffuse the building tension.

Tom hid an amused chuckle behind a cough, drawing a suspicious glance from Harry before replying. "A worthy endeavor for one such as yourself. Though if I recall correctly, one must continue on to NEWT level Potions to undertake it, yes? Severus accepts only O level OWL results in that class, and if my sources are correct, which of course they are, you will likely fall dismally short of that mark," Tom teased cheerfully, then smirked at the scowling visage before him.

"Have you ever tried to learn anything from someone who absolutely despises you?" Harry protested. "I barely have a chance to pass the OWLs at all, much less with an O!"

Tom's face turned pensive. "Now that you mention it, I do believe I have just been struck with a genius idea." A grin spread across his face. "How would you like to achieve an Outstanding in Potions class this year, Harry?"

Suddenly cautious, Harry asked carefully, "Is this idea… legal? I refuse to break the law, no matter what I might get out of it."

"Don't worry, Harry, it's perfectly lawful. In fact, many students use this method every year, though usually only purebloods." He spoke distractedly, as if he were already planning out the idea.

"Well then, what is it? And, if a lot of people do it, how come I haven't been told about it before? I obviously need all the help I can get!"

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tom looked up and shrugged. "Probably because you lived at the Dursleys. It's only because you live here now that it's really possible. Or perhaps dear old _Dumbledore_," he spat out the word as if it tasted vile, "wanted you to fail Potions, spurning your hatred for Severus and by extension the 'Dark' side of magic."

Offended, Harry snapped, "Dumbledore wouldn't do that! But, quit stalling and just tell me what it is, already."

Tom smiled mysteriously. "I have to check up on some things first, so be patient. I'll explain next time I come visit."

Harry opened his mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but his mind caught up with his instincts and he simply gaped at the second statement. "Next time?" He asked weakly.

"Yes. What about it?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I... just..." Harry gestured hopelessly before giving up. "Oh, alright; but get out and let me sleep off this dreadful headache if you're not going to tell me," he said half-heartedly, without real force behind the command.

"Alright, but stay in bed until I come back! Trust me, you'll feel better."

"What? Bed rest? I just have a headache! It'll go away eventually, and besides, bed rest hasn't ever helped before."

Tom snorted with disdain. "And when have you actually confined yourself to the bed, hmm? I'm willing to bet the only time you've had extended bed rest was when it was forced on you, and I'm sure that when this occurred, you never actually stayed in bed the whole time, even if your mediwitches thought you did." He gave Harry a knowing look before shrugging. "If you want to be plagued with headaches for all your life, go ahead and ignore me. But, I'm willing to bet you'll feel much better with actual rest."

"Fine, I'll stay in bed, but only to prove to you that it won't help! Now scram."

Tom grinned and stood to leave, pausing in the doorway. "I'll be back tomorrow, Harry. Try not to get yourself into any more trouble while I'm gone." With that, he quickly ducked out of the room, dodging a pillow thrown immediately following his teasing statement.

**O o O o O**

The next morning found a restless Harry Potter lying in bed staring longingly out his window. He glanced at the clock repeatedly, unsure when Tom was going to arrive. He made a motion as if to throw off the blankets and stand up more than once, but each time he grimaced and stilled his movements, determined to prove to Tom that even extended bed rest wouldn't improve his questionable mental health.

Thus, when Tom finally arrived, Harry was peevish and unwelcoming, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff and snapping, "It's about time!", his irritation at being confined to bed instead of up and about as usual quite clear. His annoyance quickly gave way to stunned disbelief, however, when he noticed a small bundle of fur in Tom's arms. "Tom, why are you holding a... kitten?" He asked in a somewhat shocked and strangled tone.

Tom strode in the room and plopped the little tabby cat onto Harry's lap, then proceeded to cast multiple Cleaning Charms on his hands and arms. Harry rolled his eyes and scooped up the tiny fluffball, frowning at its tremor from his touch. His eyes narrowed. "What did you do to it, you monster?"

It was Tom's turn to roll his eyes. "Nothing, Harry. I found it right before Nagini did, and thought you might actually care about its miserable little existence." He shrugged. "So I saved it."

Harry's arms tightened around the kitten protectively. "Good!" He snapped. "This poor, innocent little kitty being _eaten_?" He shuddered, then smiled down at the cat, adopting a talking-to-animals voice. "But the little kitty is safe now, aren't you, sweetie? And what a pretty little kitty you are!" He brought the kitten up to his face and nuzzled it's soft fur, continuing his narration and ignoring the looks of disgust the Dark Lord sent him, crooning, "You're gonna be so loved, and pampered, and- ow!" He turned shocked eyes to the kitten's innocent yellow ones and said, "She bit me!" He turned to look back at Tom and repeated indignantly, "She bit me!"

Tom laughed before asking, "How do you know it's a girl?"

"Well, I don't know. I suppose I just assumed…." Harry said uncertainly, looking back down at the kitten currently hissing at him with narrowed eyes and laid-back ears.

Tom waved a hand dismissively, saying, "Don't worry about it; I checked. Oh, and I've already named her."

"What?" Harry protested. "Why? She's not yours; you have no right to name her!" He said indignantly, before grimacing with pain and glaring down at the kitten currently gnawing on his hand.

Tom laughed. "Perhaps, but I believe it's very appropriate, and you'll like it. Besides, I'm the one who saved her life. I think that gives me the right to name her!"

Harry sighed resignedly, scowling at the man before him. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that. Let's hear it."

"Bellatrix," Tom said smugly, grinning at the near lethal glare Harry sent his way.

"Bellatrix?" He hissed. "You want to name my cat Bellatrix? There's no way in hell I'm going to call her that! I mean, come on. 'Here Bellatrix, here girl!' Not gonna happen. And, don't even get me started on the connotations of me naming a cat after one of the most well known Death Eaters, and a half-crazed one at that!"

"But it fits, no?" Tom said, unperturbed by Harry's rejection of the name.

"No! No kitten could ever do anything to deserve the name Bellatrix!" He argued heatedly, before letting out a curse and setting the kitten down on the bed as he brought his own hand up to inspect the painful scratches she had given him.

Tom just smiled and crossed his arms. "But you obviously wouldn't call her by her full name. Bella is a perfectly acceptable name for a pet; only you and I would know her true name."

Harry just shook his head, disgust evident in his eyes. "Why don't we decide on a name later, once I have a chance to brainstorm some _decent_ ideas."

Tom inclined his head indulgently, a smile playing about his lips. "Of course; was there something else you wished to discuss?"

Still slightly annoyed, Harry replied. "Yeah; that supposedly genius idea you had to help me in Potions?"

Tom's amusement grew as he said, "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed in that as well. I believe it can work, but it'll take a little bit of doing on my part to hash out the details. Have patience, and when all is ready I'll tell you."

Harry groaned, frustration evident in his tone. "You can't just tell me now? Why does it have to wait until you've already started it? I might not even agree to it once I know what it is!"

Tom simply remained silent, winking at Harry before changing the subject. "So, how is your head feeling on this fine morning?" He asked pleasantly.

Harry frowned and thought about it before his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Better," he realized. "But that doesn't mean anything. It still hurts like hell, and I think it's only improved because I'm not being fussed over in a hospital wing." He added defiantly.

"We'll see. Stay in bed for another two days, and with plenty of good food and relaxation you'll be feeling better in no time."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Bed rest for two whole days? I thought yesterday was all I had to have!"

"Yes, Harry, two more days. I'm sure you'll thank me afterwards."

"Can you at least stay with me so I won't be all alone and bored to death?" Harry asked, then froze as he realized what he had just said.

Tom's eyes widened, and a genuine smile slowly spread across his face. "Of course, Harry." He replied warmly. But seconds later, he seemed to fall back to reality with a thud as he realized what he had just said, and quickly added a scathing retort as an afterthought, "If you're too cowardly to handle a few simple days of solitude."

Harry's eyes narrowed, but he shook off the remark. "Then how about picking up some breakfast for us? If you're insisting on complete confinement to my bed, I'll need someone to bring my meals."

Tom took a deep breath and followed Harry's lead, shaking off the awkward moment. "I know just the place."

**Teaser:** _I don't care what you think, we're definitely _not_ becoming friends!_


	6. A Moment

Hmm, this chapter's a little rough… but hopefully I'll be able to get back into the swing of things by next chapter. Which, by the way, I have already started. Yay! The next part should actually be the easy part (for me, at least). And then comes the fun part… hehe. Anyway, I'm sure you have better things to read than my ridiculous ramblings (hey, an alliteration!), so I'll leave to it. Yes, I know. I'm a little sleep deprived at the moment. I stayed up reading way too long last night… *ahem.* I'll shut up now.

...

By the way, in case you're wondering about my lack of apology for my incredibly long period of absence, I don't do that here. :) You'll have to check my profile. Actually, I try to keep it fairly up-to-date on the story when I'm between chapters as well, so if you need an update check it out. Okay, that's it... for reals.

Honest.

* * *

**Chapter 6: A Moment**

Tom heaved a sigh of relief as he apparated back to his chambers, having just left the Leaky Cauldron, supposedly to get Harry breakfast.

"_Nagini!_" he hissed, pacing anxiously as he waited for her to wake from her nap by the fire.

"_Yes, master? Oh, are you back from visiting Harry?_" she asked drowsily.

"_Yes, but I have to hurry. Harry thinks I'm just out to pick up breakfast for us__,_" he replied restlessly.

She raised her head, fully awake now. "_Bringing him breakfast already, hmm__m__? Goodness, you're progressing quickly__, a__ccording to human standards, I mean. You haven't even been on your first date!_"

Tom automatically froze, mouth hanging open as he stared in shock and disbelief at his confidant. "_I- But__,__ he- We're not-_" he spluttered, his brain at a complete standstill. Nagini began her peculiar snake laughter at his reaction as she attempted to explain -through her fits of humor- that she was simply teasing.

"_Y__ou better be!_" Tom threatened, attempting to retain at least a shred of dignity. "_There is absolutely no way that he- that I- that- there's __just__ no way!_"

"_If you insist, master,_" Nagini said, still sniggering in her odd way.

Tom just shook his head, reminding her pointedly, "_Could we possibly stay on track? The fact remains that I need to be back shortly and you're not helping!_"

"_Well, what did you come here to ask me? There must have been something, or you wouldn't have stopped by before getting breakfast__,_" she commented, a trace of amusement lingering in her voice.

"_Yes,__ there was__,_" he sniffed, "_but… well_, _it seems rather silly now._"

Nagini rustled her scales exasperatedly before snapping impatiently, "_Out with it, stubborn human! You're in a hurry, remember?_"

"_Oh, alright, impudent snake! There was… there was a moment -a very frightening moment- __when it seemed almost as if I… _enjoyed_ talking to him._"

"_Of course you did. You're starting to like him, silly. It's really not unnatural to like someone. You like me, don't you?_"

"_What? Of course I do, but… like _him_? I don't like him! I just… forgot who I was talking to for a moment,_" he protested.

"_Whatever you say, master._"

"_Nagini! Are you being sarcastic?_" he asked suspiciously._ "You've learned far too many human traits from your time with me…._"

"_Yes, I was being sarcastic. It's so obvious to me that it's hard to believe you don't see it! This is your chance to finally have someone human to talk to. And trust me, master, you need it._"

Tom scowled at her last comment before replying. "_I'm perfectly happy with you! You're as human as anyone I know, including Harry, and I don't need anyone else._"

She seemed to almost roll her eyes at this statement, insisting, "_Yes, you do. Just have a little faith, master."_

"_I have no idea what you're talking about_," he complained.

"_Do I have to spell everything out for you? It'll be good for you to have another friend for once!_"

"_What?_" he spluttered, flabbergasted. "_I don't care what you think; we're _definitely_ not becoming friends!_"

"_You'll see. But, in the meantime, aren't you in a hurry?_"

"_Yes, yes,_" he muttered."_Goodbye, you defiant snake._"

After he disappeared with a whoosh of his cape, his faithful companion sighed in amusement before settling back down onto the warm rug to return to her nap.

**FLASHBACK BEGINS**

The orphanage children were on their weekly field trip to the park, all happily romping around the playground, playing tag, catch, and just having a wonderful time… everyone except Tom, of course. No one wanted to play with Tom ever since Jesse started teasing him every chance he got, and anyone who stood up for him or befriended him was teased just as mercilessly. So, he was alone, watching wistfully from the shade of an oak tree in the far corner of the park.

But suddenly, there was a commotion from the play structure as kids began screaming and running in all directions, away from the play structure in particular. Curious, though slightly frightened, Tom ventured from his hiding spot and approached cautiously while the chaperones attempted to restore order. As he drew nearer, he saw a tiny snake curled around one of the monkey bars.

Glancing around and noticing that no one was paying any particular attention to him from all the ruckus, he stepped closer to get a look at the little snake. The poor thing was tightly wound around the bar, pressed as close as it could to the metal to avoid attention.

"Just like me," he muttered bitterly, before looking up to try and calm the snake down. It obviously wouldn't be able to understand him, but he felt such a kinship with the tiny creature that he had to try to comfort it somehow. "_You'll be alright, little one, they're just scared of you,_" he said quietly. "_They don't really know what they're doing. They don't mean to frighten you._"

To his astonishment, the little snake lifted its head to look him straight in the eye, and Tom took an unconscious step back. "_Did you… understand that?_" he asked, feeling a little foolish.

"_You speak the true language?_" the snake hissed in reply, seeming nearly as surprised as he was, making Tom's eyes widen in shock.

"_I- I didn't know that I could until now,_" he said, frowning as he tried to concentrate on his voice. He was amazed when he realized he wasn't speaking in words, but in hisses.

The snake seemed a little confused. "_You were unaware you could speak?_"

Tom laughed, feeling a little confused himself. "_I've never actually met a snake before, so I've never tried._"

The snake seemed to take pride in being the first snake Tom had met and wriggled a little before saying, "_Then it's a pleasure to meet you._"

Tom bowed low, replying, "_And you, my little friend._" He glanced around nervously, realizing that the chaperones were finally succeeding in lining up the children. "_I have to go, but you should probably hurry and leave before anyone comes back. I don't know what they might do to you._"

The snake turned its head to the side a little before replying, as if it was embarrassed, "_I'm not sure I can escape without them noticing._"

Tom bit his lip as he thought over the new dilemma. Before he could think it out, though, some of the children caught sight of him standing so near the snake and started yelling again, this time to tell the chaperones. "_Uh-oh,_" he said, debating for only a moment more before lifting his arm up to the snake. "_Come on, crawl up my sleeve. I'll keep you safe until I can put you down again._"

The snake hesitated for only a moment before slowly unwinding and transferring over to his arm, slithering up until it was curled up on his shoulder, head peeking out through Tom's shirt collar. And just in time, too, because right at that moment the chaperone stepped over and began scolding him. "Tom! What are you doing over here? The other children say they saw a dangerous snake!"

He cocked his head as if confused. "A snake? I don't see any snake."

The adult frowned, looking over the area before shaking her head and turning back to him, puzzled. "Hmmm, it seems you're right. Well, it looks like we won't have to cut the afternoon short after all."

**FLASHBACK ENDS**

**Teaser: **_Maybe you really can get me through the OWLs!_


	7. Potions

Whew, this chapter's done! One section in particular made me want to tear all my hair out and beat my head against the wall, but now that this chapter's done, the next few should be a little easier. Yay! Anyway, I'm hoping to start updating once a week now... Sundays good for y'all? :) But stop listening to me rambling and go read the story! (And then review it.) :D

* * *

**Chapter 7: Potions**

After Tom left, Harry did his best to calm his new kitten by stroking her fur softly and whispering reassurances. He grimaced as she grabbed hold of his hand with both paws and sunk her teeth into his palm. Attempting to extricate his hand from her grip without hurting her or himself, he finally pulled on her scruff gently, quickly hiding his abused hand under the covers as he tried to placate her.

When Tom finally reappeared, Harry scowled, the kitten having climbed onto his shoulder, gnawing at his collarbone. Tom shook his head, laughing as he set his load down by the door. "I took the liberty of purchasing a few… pet care items… for you since you will not be able to leave your bed for another two days."

Harry scowled at the reminder before sighing in resignation. "All right, let's see 'em."

Tom suppressed a snicker at Harry's tone before retrieving food and water bowls, a 10 lb bag of kitten food, a self cleaning litter box and various charmed cat toys.

Harry reluctantly approved Tom's choices before smirking. "Now who's going to set all that up? I'm still on bed rest, you know."

The man paused for a moment before scowling and gritting his teeth. "I will. Where do you want them?"

After a thoroughly enjoyable half hour in which Harry continuously changed his mind gleefully about where he wanted the items, he was finally satisfied, and Tom pulled up a chair while the two enjoyed their breakfast.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Tom commented, "Why on earth do you own a Slytherin beanie?" Unable to contain his laughter, he barely managed to duck Harry's half-hearted swing before looking up expectantly. "Well?"

"It was a last resort," Harry ground out. "I needed something to hide my scar, and it was either that or pink polka dots."

Tom's eyes widened as he shuddered in horror. "Well, I don't blame you. I'd probably choose to wear _Hufflepuff _colors over pink polka dots!"

Harry sniggered. "Yeah, it was pretty hideous."

"And hey, it looked better on you than any Gryffindor colors."

Harry choked. "Did not!"

"It certainly did."

"Did not!"

"Face it, green is just better than magenta."

"Is not!"

"Admit it, Harry."

"No!"

"You're in denial."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"HA!" Harry shouted triumphantly. "That wasn't a full sentence!"

Tom pouted childishly before sighing, "How about we agree to disagree?"

Harry grinned, "You're only saying that 'cause you know I'm right!"

Tom groaned in exasperation, "Give it a rest, stubborn child!"

Harry opened his mouth to give a stinging retort but Tom quickly placed his hand over it, stopping him. The two froze, eyes locked in surprise, before Tom hastily removed his hand and they continued eating, the silence nearly deafening.

The remainder of the day passed in a similar manner with few major arguments, though still with plenty of minor arguments. Despite the lack of explosions, though, there were still plenty of awkward moments and forced silences. Tom left after they had finished dinner, promising to be back in the morning with breakfast for them both.

**O o O o O**

The next morning Tom grinned broadly upon entering and announced, "Everything is in order. Do you still want to hear my plan to put you at the top of your Potions class?"

Even though Harry's eyes lit up with anticipation and a hint of fear, he anwered hurriedly, "Yes!"

"Good. Aside from Divination, Potions is easily the most difficult subject at Hogwarts. Very few students achieve NEWT level, especially with Severus' stringent requirements, which by the way, are completely reasonable. The complexity of the Potions theory taught in that class is well beyond the comprehension of the average student. So, I believe the only way for you to have a chance at passing your OWLs with an O is with private tutoring. Besides, I think you'd enjoy Potions if you actually understood it. What do you say?"

Harry blinked uncomprehendingly before sudden horror dawned in his eyes. "Are you seriously offering to tutor me in Potions?"

"Yes."

"I. Um... okay," Harry said weakly.

"Good. Let's begin with the most basic concepts, and then we'll progress to more age appropriate ideas after I'm satisfied that you completely understand the early ones.

**[[AN: This next section is optional; only read it if you're interested in my version of Potions theory. If you don't care, skip to the next double brackets.]]**

"First of all, like the Muggle science Chemistry, there's a clear cut diagram of all Potions ingredients, simply called the Potions Chart. However, it is much more complex than it's Muggle counterpart, resembling a tree in place of a straightforward table. Dangerous, irregular ingredients lie in the roots of the tree. These are generally illegal, though in special cases may be approved by the Ministry. Unicorn's blood, for example, is banned from use in any Potion no matter the circumstances, for obvious reasons.

"The trunk of the tree itself is merely a category, and doesn't include specific ingredients. Think of it as a placeholder that keeps all the other categories in the same position relative to each other. I'll not bore you with all the details at, but in essence each limb is a wide category, branches are groups within those categories, twigs are even smaller sections, and the leaves are the actual ingredients.

"Each ingredient has specific properties, and it is these properties that bind together to create the effects desired when brewing. Lower level potions can be brewed simply by following instructions, however those which are more difficult must be constantly watched, kept in exactly the right conditions, ingredients placed in narrow windows of time to work with the reactions of other ingredients, etc. In addition, rare Potions ingredients often vary in potency, and it takes a practiced hand to determine the amount which will ensure it's proper reaction with the other ingredients." He grinned at the thoughtful look on Harry's face. "Questions?"

**[[AN: Okay, the Potions lesson is over for now! :) ]]**

"I think… I just learned more about Potions than in my entire first year," Harry said, grinning. "Maybe you really can get me through the OWLs!"

Tom laughed before warning, "This is just the easy material; it's what most purebloods learn before ever coming to Hogwarts. Things get more complicated extraordinarily quickly."

Harry scowled. "Thanks for popping my happy bubble. But, I guess the only way to get through it is to keep at it, so let's get going."

Tom nodded approvingly before launching into a lecture on the most basic aspects of Potions making, often pausing and explaining concepts to Harry and patiently waiting for complete understanding before continuing the dialogue. They continued until Harry glanced at the clock and was shocked to find that it was hours past lunchtime. Had the time really flown by that quickly? And... did that mean he had been having fun talking about _Potions_?

When he voiced his concern, Tom clapped him on the shoulder, teasing, "You poor thing! You'll soon become obsessed with Potions at this rate... and you'll never be able to give it up!"

Harry gasped in mock horror. "How awful! But seriously, though, you don't think I'm going to actually start liking Potions, do you?"

"I have absolutely no doubt that once you start to understand the subtle, complex nature of Potions you'll love it. But for now, let's go take a lunch break. What's your favorite place?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion before he sat bolt upright in revelation. "I'm free! Bed rest is over! I can leave my room! I'm FREE!" He shouted, before literally jumping up out of bed in excitement.

Tom watched, amused, before clearing his throat pointedly and asking, "Lunch?"

"Oh. Right," Harry said, blushing, then paused, thinking back to what Tom had said. "You mean... together? Just go and have lunch as if we were... friends?"

"I suppose that would be a leap of faith, wouldn't it? But, we agreed to start over, yes? Would you consider the Tom you've known these past few days to be a friend?"

The words were innocent enough, but Harry heard a slight hesitance in the inquiry, as if Tom was nervous. But, that couldn't be right. He shook it off and answered timidly, "Yes." As he said it, he realized it was true; if he had met this Tom at school, he would have certainly taken a liking to him.

Tom smiled again, something Harry was beginning to like about him... He was so laid back and content seeming. But, why in the world was he, anyway? He was a Dark Lord, after all! Before Harry could think anything more about it, Tom interrupted his thoughts, "Well then, let's go out for a bite to eat, shall we?"

Now that he thought about it, he rather liked the idea of having lunch with Tom. He rarely treated himself to lunch at an actual restaurant, and when he did, he never had anyone to share it with. "But, where should we go?"

"Hmm... How about Shelly's? They have delicious grilled sandwiches," Tom suggested.

"Sounds good to me. Now that we're talking about food, I'm starving!"

Tom laughed as they stood to go. "Teenagers— always thinking with their stomachs."

After he got into the swing of things, Harry began to appreciate his new schedule, glad of the escape from his would-be summer at the Dursleys. Tom came to tutor him from 10:00 am to 4:00 pm (with a lunch break) on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, insisting that Harry needed as much time as possible to be prepared for the upcoming year. They had a tendency to wander off topic, though, discussing everything from the latest Quidditch product to their favorite subjects, to philosophy and the meaning of life.

Harry began looking forward to their meetings more and more, quickly becoming bored with exploring Diagon Alley and purchasing the things that caught his eye. He almost considered asking Tom to come more often before he realized what he was thinking and quickly banished the idea from his mind.

**[[This next section is basically more Potions theory; so if you want to skip it I'll give you a summary in bold at the end.]]**

One day, exactly a week before school began, Tom came to visit as usual, but this time, he brought a sheet of handwritten brewing instructions and a small pouch of Galleons. At Harry's curious expression, he set the items on the table, inviting Harry to look them over, and explained.

"This is an exercise often implemented by Potions Masters when first training an apprentice fresh out of Hogwarts. It tests not only the student's theoretical knowledge of potions and their ability to brew, but also their skill in navigating an apothecary and thinking on their feet to deal with realistic problems as they occur. Of course, the potion here is of a lower level than generally used, as you are still only at OWL level, but it should suffice as proof that you have caught up to your year in Potions. As you can see, I've given you the ingredients and instructions to create a potion you haven't seen before, and sufficient funds to purchase the ingredients. Brew me this potion and have it ready by Wednesday for your next lesson."

With that, he turned and left, ignoring Harry's stuttered inquiries. Suddenly nervous, Harry took a deep breath and turned his attention to the potion, reading through the instructions twice to get a good idea of what he would be doing. Copying the list of ingredients onto a second sheet of parchment, he took his list and the pouch of money and headed to the Apothecary.

Easily picking out most of the required items, he narrowed the list down to only two more ingredients, frowning as he tried to recall their properties and usage. The first, silkworm thread soaked in beetle eye juice, was actually two ingredients, and required quite a bit of time and delicate work to properly combine. He could purchase it pre-soaked, but that would require all of money he had left (thirteen sickles), and he was sure Tom had provided him with enough to purchase all the ingredients.

He set the problem aside temporarily and turned his attention to the other remaining ingredient. Powdered newt tongue? He had never heard of such a thing before, and that made him nervous. He easily found it in the well organized store, but noted with dismay that it cost two galleons, far more than he had left, especially if he purchased the other ingredient.

He chewed his lip thoughtfully as he mulled over the problem. He knew without doubt that the challenge was intended; it was obviously part of the assignment, but what to do about it? The only thing he could think of was to substitute some of the items for less expensive ones with similar properties. They would be less potent, but he would deal with that once he came to it. Sitting down, he carefully read and re-read the list of ingredients, noting those with possible substitutes. Once that was done, he laboriously compiled the costs of those substitutes and determined the new total, relieved to see that it was a far smaller number than it had been previously.

Gathering all the new items, he walked to the counter with them and smugly poured out the contents of the money pouch, knowing that it contained the exact change to the Knut.

Back at the Leaky Cauldron after a quick lunch, he laid out the ingredients in the impromptu workspace they had made on one side of the room, pushing his bed to the other end for more space.

Beginning with the base, he slowly added ingredients at the proper time, carefully stirring them into the now simmering cauldron while he tried to decipher a way to improve the potion's potency and make up for the weaker ingredients he had had to use. Once he reached a point where the cauldron had to simmer for a few hours, he sat down with a tired sigh and dove into the problem more fully.

Still staring at the cauldron with no ideas hours later, he realized it was nearing the time to prepare the potion for the final two ingredients to be added, and frantically searched for anything that could help before his window of time was lost. Re-reading the sheet, staring at the cauldron, and rehashing the ingredients continued to turned up nothing, and he had nearly given up when he sat bolt upright, shouting, "That's it!"

His cheeks grew warm with embarrassment at his exclamation even though no one could have heard it. Despite his embarrassment, he hurriedly busied himself at his desk, proudly editing the sheet of instructions to account for his subtle changes involving the final ingredients.

Another hour and an aching back later, he sat back, grinning down at his creation and carefully setting it over the fire at boiling temperature where it would remain for the next 24 hours, it's magical properties preventing any of it from evaporating.

Work finished, Harry simply had a modest dinner and retired, exhausted from his efforts. As he wearily prepared for bed, he speculated that the potion must be a fairly advanced one to drain so much magical energy from him. After feeding Bella, he collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep with a deep sigh of relief.

**[[Alright, basically Tom gave Harry a final project to prove that he's caught up with the rest of his class. He worked on it and (hopefully) overcame it's challenges, and now he's waiting until the next time Tom comes to judge him on it.]]**

**Teaser: **_People who had done nothing wrong, murdered because he had _avoided thinking about it_?_

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**Edit:** I'm sorry, guys, this is gonna have to be it for a while. A long while. :( I really hate to have to do this, but my life is just incredibly overwhelming at the moment, and I can't continue writing. I wrote a bit more about the situation on my Profile Page, but basically I won't be seeing you all for quite some time. Christmas at the earliest, but most likely not until summer. I love you, and I'll miss this, but there's really nothing I can do. Check in around Christmas. Who knows; I might be able to get a chapter finished over break._  
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